Mute Lyrics

Porcupine Tree Mute

[Instumental]

("Mutes lie choking in the green fields of England, (-inaudible word-). Scorching their own inheritance, burning in a hand-me-down Hiroshima, A man-made prison called progress. And who's going to profit when the dome breaks free? When the railways of death burn the people, and when the watch has stopped for good?")